At Malfoy Manor
by maigonokaze
Summary: What happened while Hermione was upstairs with Bellatrix? Completely DH Compliant, takes place while Ron and Harry are locked in the cellar at Malfoy Manor. CAUTION: Contains torture, rape, and otherwise disquieting themes.
1. Malfoy Manor

DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I stand to make no monetary or other gain from writing this story. Some lines are quoted directly from the book and this scene can fit within both the book and the movie.

* * *

The spelled roped pulled tight against her. Hermione was bound snugly against her fellow prisoners as they watched Bellatrix rage against the Snatchers who had tried to keep the Sword of Gryffindor from her.

Narcissa's voice was quiet and calm as she spoke. "Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback," she said.

"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except… except for the Mudblood."

Hermione felt her heart sink within her. A cold terror gripped her and she stood rooted in place. She heard the werewolf, Greyback, give a grunt of pleasure. She felt Ron beside her begin to struggle. "No!" he shouted. "You can have me, keep me!"

_No! _Hermione wanted to scream. Her throat was dry and she couldn't force her mouth to move to form the protest as she heard Ron offer himself up in her place.

Bellatrix hit him across the face; the blow echoed in Hermione's ears. "If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next. Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book." She did not look at Greyback, but kept her eyes focused on Hermione as she spoke her next command. "Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them – yet."

Bellatrix pulled a short silver knife from under her robes and cut the cords that tied Hermione to the others.

Hermione winced as the woman's hand gripped her hair close to the scalp and pulled her away. She struggled against Bellatrix as the dark-haired witch dragged her into the middle of the room. Hermione twisted to watch as Greyback held his wand out in front of him and forced the rest of them to shuffle into the dark passageway that led to the cellars beneath Malfoy Manor. She saw Ron try to fight against the magical push that shoved him forward and wanted to call out to him, but could not find her voice.

Bellatrix pulled the young witch up against her, one hand still tangled in the bushy mane. "You will tell me what I want to know. And before I am done with you, you will learn a Mudblood's proper place," she whispered softly. "Now, just to make this more fun… _Imperio_." The spell was not as strong as it could have been. Since her hands were busy holding both Hermione and her knife, her wand was still buried inside her robes. The wandless spell was weaker, but nevertheless, Hermione felt the warm tug of the spell pull at her will. She felt warm breath pulse against her neck as Bellatrix leaned in closer. "Take off your clothes, Mudblood," she whispered. Her lips brushed over the sensitive skin on Hermione's neck.

Hermione's hands started to move of their own accord, but then her fists clenched. _I know how to fight this_, she told herself firmly.

Bellatrix loosened her hold on the younger witch as she waited expectantly for her to obey. Suddenly, Hermione wrenched free from her grasp and pulled away. "No." The unwavering refusal slipped past her lips.

Before Hermione could do anything, Bellatrix had plunged her hand into her robes to find her wand. "_Crucio!_"

Unimaginable pain ripped through Hermione's body and she fell to her knees on the hard stone floor. She was screaming and her throat was raw as the primitive cries were ripped from her. Her elbows hit the ground as she curled in on herself, trying to find relief from the burning, stabbing pain that permeated her body.

Then it stopped. She gasped and her body trembled as the spasms subsided. From somewhere underneath the floor, she heard Ron's voice. "_Hermione!_" His voice echoed in her head as she shook on the floor.

Bellatrix muttered something and Hermione was hit with a wave of cold as her clothes were magically stripped from her and cast aside. "NO!" she screamed.

Bellatrix laughed and, with a jerk of her wand, raised Hermione to her feet. Hermione raised her arms to cover herself but Bellatrix conjured a silver rope that entwined itself around her wrists and pulled them behind her back. Hermione closed her eyes and bit her lower lip as she felt Bellatrix's gaze scrape over her body. She was still shaking slightly from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, but she managed to suck in a single, deep, shuddering breath. "I want to know how you and your friends got that sword," Bellatrix said. "_Crucio_."

The scorching pain hit her again and Hermione's knees buckled as she fell to the ground and writhed at Bellatrix's feet. Bellatrix's laughter filled her ears. "You see, Cissy? The Mudblood does know her place." She lifted the curse and Hermione curled on her side in the fetal position. "Tell me, Mudblood. How did you get in? What else did you take?"

Even if Hermione had been disposed to answer, she had no idea what Bellatrix was talking about. "I don't know! Please, no!" Bellatrix crucioed her a third time and her words turned to horrific screams. Bellatrix released the spell when they heard a door open. Hermione looked up in the direction that Greyback had taken Harry and Ron. They were nowhere to be seen.

Greyback stood in the doorway. His eyes darkened with lust and he growled appreciatively when he saw her. Unlike the Malfoys, who were standing to the side and tacitly averting their eyes from Hermione's nude body, Greyback stalked forward. His predator eyes focused on Hermione and she twisted under his gaze in an attempt to cover herself. Bellatrix kicked her harshly and Hermione groaned as the witch's pointed shoe connected with her ribs.

"What else did you take?" Bellatrix's purr was low and dangerous.

Hermione said nothing. She looked around. Bellatrix stood over her; Greyback was only five paces away. Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco huddled together near the far wall. Hermione locked eyes with Draco. She was too afraid to even mouth the words, but she pleaded with her eyes, _help me!_ He turned away and fixed his eyes resolutely on the stone wall as though it held some innumerable fascination.

Bellatrix noticed the direction of her gaze. "Draco," she called in a sing-song voice, elongating his name. "Nephew darling, would you like to come play with the new toy?" Hermione looked away from him, afraid for his answer. He must have replied in the negative though, as Bellatrix shrugged. "More fun for Auntie Bella, then…" She nudged Hermione to turn over so that the young witch was lying flat on her back. "Tell me."

Hermione's mind raced. _What was it that Bellatrix had said to the others? 'Snape had this sent to my vault at Gringotts'… There has to be something else in her vault that she thinks we were after._ "We didn't… we were never there," Hermione sobbed.

Bellatrix's features contorted into a scowl. "I don't believe you. _Petrificus Totalus! Wingardum Leviosa!_"

Hermione's body snapped rigid, with her arms pinned at her side. The only part of her body she could move was her eyes and she looked around in panic as she began to levitate in the air.

With another wave of her wand, Bellatrix conjured a swarm of needle-thin daggers that hung suspended around Hermione. Her tongue snaked out to flick over her lips in anticipation.

Hermione's eyes danced between the tiny knives. A thousand splinters of light reflected back at her. She wanted to scream. No, she wanted to have her wand and curse Bellatrix into oblivion. She could still faintly hear Ron's bellows of outrage and fear as he screamed her name over and over: _"Hermione! Hermione!"_

Hundreds of metal shards entered her body at the same time. Hermione's jaw was locked by the body bind and her cries of pain were trapped within her own head. Another jerk of Bellatrix's wand and each of the knife points expanded to produce tiny barbs. The knives were firmly embedded in her calves and thighs, her buttocks and lower back, her stomach and breasts, her arms and shoulders – virtually every accessible inch of skin apart from her face was bleeding slow trickles of blood that dripped down onto the floor beneath her.

One by one, Bellatrix yanked the knives out. Each time, she healed the wound almost instantly so that Hermione didn't lose too much blood. By the time the last one was removed, Hermione was in unbearable pain, though there was not a mark on her.

Bellatrix pulled the final knife out and watched Hermione's blood bubble up and flow down her skin for a moment. Then with a pass of her wand, the wound sealed itself. She turned and walked away from Hermione for a moment. As she faced away, she released the levitation spell and the full body-bind. Hermione fell to the floor with a sudden thump and landed in the puddle of her own blood.

_This is the perfect chance! _Hermione thought to herself. _She's facing away and not paying attention._ Her eyes sought the pile where the Snatchers had left the items they had recovered from their prisoners. _Surely my wand is over there. If only I could get to it…_ But even though Bellatrix might have turned away, Greyback was still watching her intently. Hermione doubted she had the strength to move.

"Tell me, Mudblood. How did you get the sword? What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! _CRUCIO!_"

As soon as the spell passed, Hermione pushed herself up on trembling arms. Her legs would not cooperate to allow her to stand. She held herself up in a sitting position and her elbows locked under the strain of her own weight bearing down. "We were never in your vault, I swear!"

Bellatrix whirled around. "_Crucio!_ I`m tired of your lies!" she snarled. Then suddenly she changed tactics. She tucked her wand into her robe and approached Hermione, who had dropped back to the ground under the force of the Torture Curse. She knelt beside her and almost tenderly brushed at the dirt and blood that were smeared on her face. "Poor little thing. You needn't suffer any more. Just tell me the truth and this will be over." She leaned in and Hermione could smell the putrid breath from where most of her teeth had rotted during her years in Azkaban.

Hermione dropped her gaze from Bellatrix's face. "Please don't… no more…" she whimpered pitifully while her eyes carefully searched within the visible folds of Bellatrix's robe. The older witch shifted slightly and Hermione caught sight of a glint of familiar metal – Bellatrix's knife. Her hand darted forward and grabbed the dagger before Bellatrix even realized what she was doing. Hermione slashed the knife across her face and left a deep gash from cheekbone to jaw.

Bellatrix leapt backwards and drew her wand. A quick motion jerked the knife from Hermione's hand and sent it spinning across the floor. Bellatrix turned the wand toward herself and quickly healed the bleeding wound. A faint silver line remained to mark Hermione's attempt. "You'll pay for that one, you filthy little Mudblood whore." She summoned a table from the other side of the room. The wooden legs scraped over the unyielding stone floor. With a few subtle motions of her wand, she picked Hermione up off the floor and threw her against the table like a rag doll. Green cords snaked out of the end of her wand and wound themselves around Hermione's legs, binding each ankle to one of the table legs. A third length of rope tied her wrists together and dragged them forward, forcing her to lay flat against the cool, smooth surface beneath.

Hermione's breath was coming in short, ragged pants as she tried to think of a way out. The ropes would not give as she pulled against them. Bellatrix passed out of her field of vision and then she felt a cold, soft hand come to rest on her lower back. Bellatrix stroked her fingertips over skin that was still sticky with blood. "_Scourgify._" Hermione felt the air around her rustle as the magic washed over her and removed the grime and blood that were caked onto her body.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as a wave of panic rose within her. "We've never been inside your vault," she sobbed. "It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy."

"A copy?" screeched Bellatrix. "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily!" came Lucius's voice. Hermione tucked her head down and buried it against the wood between her arms. In her preoccupation with the mad woman torturing her, she had forgotten about the Malfoys and Greyback still in the room. She chanced a glance over at the werewolf. His smoldering gaze raked over her as he took in her prone body bent over the edge of the table. Hermione bit her lip and she felt hot tears roll down her cheeks to fall only the lacquered surface. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

"Yes, Draco, fetch the goblin." Bellatrix breathed. She was practically giddy with the prospect of confirming that her vault remained unbreached. Her hand resumed its mindless path over the smooth skin of Hermione's back. Her fingers started to trace lower and lower as she watched her nephew leave the room. "Greyback!" she called out suddenly as her fingers' motion stilled.

The werewolf started to attention. "Yes?" he rasped.

"You wanted a chance to play with the little Mudblood, didn't you? I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl after what you have done tonight. Take her if you want her." Greyback's wolfish features twisted up in a sick distortion of a grin. He stalked toward the table, inhaling deeply to absorb the scent of her fear and panic. "But before you take her," Bellatrix's voice interrupted him, "I want to see you play with her here. There is still a lesson I need to teach." She raised her hands up so that only her nails were lightly pressed against Hermione's skin and dragged them up, from the curve of her butt up to her shoulder blades. Hermione flinched as she felt the skin tear under Bellatrix's claws.

Greyback smiled. He moved to stand behind Hermione and reached his hands out to stroke up her legs. His firm grip moved up her thighs and parted her, opening her sex to his appraisal. Hermione tried to squirm away, but any movement was impossible. Greyback lowered his nose to just an inch away from her and sniffed. He raised his head and licked his lips as he smirked at Bellatrix. "The Mudblood's a virgin," he rumbled. "This will be fun."

Bellatrix let out a mad sort of cackle. She hovered between standing beside Hermione's head and her hip, as though uncertain whether she wanted to watch the actual act or see the pain reflected in her victim's face. She ended up standing in the middle. Hermione turned her face away. Bellatrix seized her by the hair and twisted her so that she was forced to look up at the black-haired Death Eater.

Greyback opened his pants and let them settle low around his hips as he pulled out his massive erection. He was pulsing with need as the wolf within him fought to dominate the woman spread out before him. Thick hair covered his lower belly and down. The nails on his hands were more like claws and Hermione could feel them digging into her skin as he clutched her hips and positioned himself at her entrance.

He thrust deep within her in a single motion. Hermione screamed and Bellatrix laughed. The werewolf withdrew until only the tip of his head was left inside her and then slammed in again. Hermione writhed on the table as he pounded into her. Bellatrix's hands were on her, stroking, pinching, and scratching her as Greyback yanked her hips back against him. Her throat was raw as she screamed and begged for them to stop. Bellatrix cast _Silencio_, but still Hermione continued to scream, issuing soundless cries for help. The poignant agony etched on her face only served to excite Bellatrix more. She heard Draco approaching the room with the goblin and turned around quickly to shut the door in his face. "Wait out there 'til I`m done," she called through the thick door.

Bellatrix turned back to Hermione. "I wouldn't want him to interrupt our fun," she said with a sadistic smile. "Greyback, hold her down," she commanded as she stepped away from the table. Bellatrix reversed the Silence charm and Hermione's screams once again filled the room. Bellatrix smiled. "_Crucio!_"

Hermione's body jerked and almost lifted off the table as the spell hit her. Greyback grunted as he slammed into her and her muscles spasmed around him. He placed a single, heavy hand in the center of her shoulder blades and pushed down, crushing her ribs against the table. Hermione thought she felt at least one rib crack under the pressure. Bellatrix held the curse longer this time. She waited until she saw Greyback start to thrust with short, fast strokes and tilt his head back as the orgasm overtook him. As he spurted into Hermione, Bellatrix finally lifted her wand.

Greyback pulled out of her and stepped away. Hermione shook and sobbed as the tremors of the Cruciatus curse began to subside. Her whole body was cold and bruised and aching. She felt filthy beyond measure and the warm sticky fluid trailing down her inner thighs made her want to vomit. Bellatrix undid the cords that tied her to the table, but Hermione was unable to move. Her legs hung limply as she brought her arms down next to her shoulders and curled her fists futilely.

Bellatrix shoved her to the side and she slipped of the edge of the table. She couldn't even reach out an arm to break her fall as she collapsed onto the ground. Bellatrix smiled as she stood over the fallen girl. "Time to get dressed," she said pleasantly.

Hermione groaned as she tried and failed to move.

"You can do better than that. _Imperio!_"

Earlier, Hermione had managed to fight of the curse. Now, she couldn't. The warm wave of compulsion spread throughout her body and tingled. She felt no pain. The world around her was soft and light. A voice drifted through the haze. "_Get dressed_." Hermione obeyed. She pushed herself up off the floor and waited for a moment while her legs strained to hold her up. She walked over to where her clothing lay scattered on the floor and donned the garments. "_Excellent_," the voice rewarded her. Then the warm, painless haze was gone.

Hermione was swaying on her feet in the middle of a cold, stone room in Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix was standing over her, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. Greyback was only a pace or two away and his eyes burned with possessiveness as he watched her. Lucius and Narcissa were standing on the far side of the room, trying their best to ignore what their psychotic in-law was doing. The heavy wooden door swung open to reveal Draco and Griphook, the goblin. Bellatrix shoved Hermione to the ground as she beckoned the goblin forward.

Hermione collapsed on the ground. Every inch of her body ached. She could feel her own blood running hot over the raw and battered flesh between her legs. She didn't want to think about what other fluids were there. She watched through half-lidded eyes as Bellatrix cast a curse at the goblin as a precursor to any questions. There was a horrible cracking noise as the bones in his legs shattered and he fell to the ground. Hermione heard their voices but could barely comprehend what they were saying. She hoped that he would catch on and go along with her story that the sword was a fake. She watched as Bellatrix slashed her wand and a fierce gash opened up on the side of his face. He said something. Hermione was tired, so very tired.

Bellatrix was elated. She cast the goblin aside and prowled over to Hermione. She crouched over the witch, pinning her to the ground under her body. "It's a fake. The sword is a fake," she repeated over and over again as though unable to believe that she had so narrowly escaped her Lord's wrath. "He will be so pleased when I tell him that we have the boy." Hermione remained completely still, not wanting to attract the attention of the psychotic witch who seemed momentarily content to talk to herself. "Once again, I can show him that I alone am his best and most faithful servant."

She giggled with glee and pulled out her knife as she sat up with a smile. Her knees and calves rested alongside Hermione's thighs as she sat perched over her victim. She twisted the knife mindlessly in her hand and then jabbed it through Hermione's hand. Hermione let out a blood-curdling scream. Bellatrix yanked the knife back out and her mouth stretched wide in a demented parody of a smile. "Stop your screaming, it's not so bad." A wave of her wand sealed the wound, but Hermione's hand still twitched in pain.

Bellatrix leaned forward and Hermione groaned in pain at the pressure put on her broken rib. She cast a quick spell that rendered Hermione's arm completely immobile. She ran her tongue along her upper lip as she placed the tip of the blade against Hermione's forearm.

Hermione screamed and kicked her legs and flailed her free arm as Bellatrix carved a single word into her skin: _Mudblood_.

"Now everyone will see you for what you are, you dirty little Mudblood whore."

Hermione turned her face to the side. A single tear ran down her cheek and over the side of her face down toward her ear. She thought that she could hear Ron's voice calling out , "_Hermione! Hermione!_" She wondered if she were imagining it.

"And I`ve got something else for you," Bellatrix's whisper was practically seductive as she purred in Hermione's ear. "It's a little spell that I invented when I was younger." She held her wand with the point just touching Hermione's temple. "_Memorium Equaltae Combinaras!_" she hissed. A tangle of silver threads of memory drew out from Hermione's head and twirled around the tip of the wand before sliding back into her brain.

Hermione whimpered as her quick mind grasped the meaning of the spell. Bellatrix pursed her lips together and smirked. "Draco was right. You are a smart little witch." Her lips were practically touching Hermione's ear as she continued, "If you try to tell anyone about what happened here tonight, they will share in our memory of it. They – and you – will see and hear and taste and smell and _feel_," she rubbed her body along Hermione's pressing them together from hip to breast, "everything that you have experienced tonight."

Bellatrix released her, but Hermione did not have the strength to move. She lay on the floor, helpless, as Bellatrix crossed over toward where Griphook had fallen earlier. Bellatrix stood over him dispassionately. Hermione was fading fast, black and yellow spots were dancing in front of her eyes. She dimly saw Bellatrix slash Griphook again across the face as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The next thing she knew, she was being hauled to her feet. Bellatrix's voice was in her ear and there was a sharp blade pressed against her throat. Her limbs were lethargic and if it were not for Bellatrix's firm grasp, she would not have been able to stand. Harry and Ron were in front of her, holding out their wands. Bellatrix hissed a threat and she felt the knife tighten against her neck. There was a sharp pain as it sliced into the thin skin. Two matching clatters followed as Harry and Ron dropped the wands. Hermione felt herself being pulled backward as Bellatrix moved her away from her friends.

Hermione reached weakly out toward them, her arms coming up in a limp half-gesture. Ron made a choking noise in his throat as he started to move toward her. Bellatrix jerked Hermione's arm back and Ron froze.

A groaning sound distracted them all. Hermione looked up. Dobby was sitting perched on the chandelier and was loosening the screws that held it in place. Ron leapt toward her and pulled her out of the way as the giant chandelier crashed to the ground where she had been standing a mere second before.

Ron pulled her up against him. Hermione turned toward him and rested her hand against his broad, flat chest. His heart beat reassuringly underneath her pal as he helped her stand and move over toward Dobby. Dobby rested his hand against her and Malfoy Manor twisted out of existence as the house-elf Apperated them away from the evil place.

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I think this will just be a one-shot, but let me know if there is interest in seeing it continued.

**Reviews are very much appreciated.**

For those of you following my L&O: SVU story, Revenge, I apologize that I have been having a bit of writer's block and real-life interference. I will be updating hopefully within the next few days. **  
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	2. Shell Cottage

Hermione's legs collapsed under her as they hit the wet sand along the shore near Shell Cottage. Ron was at her side, holding her, wrapping his arms around her to offer her comfort and to reassure himself that she was real, that she was safe, that she was alive. The gentle waves lapped up against her legs as she knelt, motionless, her mind reeling.

Ron stood and his hand on her arm was gentle as he tugged her to stand. "Are you alright, Hermione?" he asked, his voice gruff and thick.

Hermione looked up at him as she slowly got to her feet. _I can't tell him. I can't tell anyone what happened there. Not now. Not ever._ She took a deep breath and said, "I`m alright, Ron. It's over." But the way she had to pull against his outstretched arm in order to stand belied her statement.

He looped his arm about her waist and they set off on the path toward Shell Cottage. Hermione looked over her shoulder toward Harry. He was bent over in the sand, clutching Dobby in his arms. "We should go back," Hermione said. She started to head in Harry's direction and was surprised to feel resistance as Ron didn't budge.

"No," he said. "Let's get you to the cottage and make sure you're alright."

A small cluster of people were moving out to meet them through the darkness. A short distance away from Ron and Hermione, the group split. Fleur came toward the pair of them while Bill, Dean, and Luna headed toward Harry and Dobby. Without saying a word, Fleur slipped under Hermione's arm on the side opposite Ron and helped support her back toward the cottage.

"No, I`m fine," protested Hermione. "Really…"

"Come on, 'ermione." Fleur's airy voice washed over her.

Though Hermione would never have admitted it, she was thankful for the supporting arms around her. Her legs were weak and sore and her whole body ached from Bellatrix's ministrations. She felt a certain stickiness between her thighs and cringed. _No, I can't think about that. I can't talk about that. I just have to get somewhere where I can get clean._

Ron noticed her subtle wince and misinterpreted it. "We're almost there, Hermione," he muttered softly. "Almost there."

A gust of wind kicked up, blowing down the shoreline. Hermione felt the cool breeze snap by her, blowing through her clothing and piercing her skin. Ron, on the windward side, lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the sand.

A short distance away, where Harry, Dean, Bill, and Luna were gathered around Dobby, a single head shot up from among the crowd. He examined the small group moving toward the house and his eyes narrowed fiercely.

* * *

Fleur shooed Ron away and helped Hermione lay down on a couch in the living room. She crossed to a cabinet in the small kitchen and pulled out a bottle of Dittany. Hermione's arm was still bleeding as Fleur used the dropper to administer the healing essence. The blood flow stopped but the skin did not knit back together as it should have. The word did not vanish.

Fleur stared for a moment. When she spoke, anger throbbed in her voice. "Oo did zis?"

Hermione did not answer. She was afraid to say anything, afraid to trigger Bellatrix's spell. She would have to find a way to reverse it, somehow, but for now she would keep silent.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Ron said from the doorway.

Fleur looked up at him, horror etched on her face. She had heard stories of the female Death Eater's proclivity for pain.

He stepped closer and, for the first time, saw the word _Mudblood _engraved in Hermione's flesh. "`Mione…" His voice cracked slightly and Hermione looked up to see moisture welling in his eyes. "I`m sorry, I`m so sorry… I tried to get back up to you, but…"

Hermione sat up, struggling against the thick, deep cushions of the couch that threatened to swallow her. She thought about what Harry and Ron would have seen if they had escaped from the cellar a few minutes earlier and shuddered. She tugged her sleeve down over her forearm, covering the horrid word that was etched into her skin. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing, really. I`ll find a way to get it off… later." Fleur looked worried and Ron was trying to bottle his rage.

"'ermione, where else are you 'urt?"

Hermione's mouth was suddenly dry. She swallowed and ran her tongue along her upper lip. "Nowhere. It was mostly just…" her voice faded, but Ron finished her sentence for her.

"The Cruciatus Curse," he supplied. "We could hear even from down in the cellar."

Fleur sat back on her heels next to the couch where Hermione rested. Her hand drifted up to stroke Hermione's hair back from her forehead. "I can give you a potion to help you relax, but the only real cure for pain from the torture curse is rest. We 'ave been helping send people to Bill's Auntie Muriel's – that will be the best place for you to rest and get better. Hopefully there you can find a way to 'eal your arm, too.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest that of course they couldn't run to Muriel's and hide, but she stopped when the door to the cottage opened to reveal Bill, Luna, and Dean, all wearing the same somber expression.

"Dobby is dead," Bill announced, looking at Ron and Hermione. "Bellatrix's knife caught him mid-Apparition."

Ron sat on the couch next to Hermione with a thud. His expression was blank as he processed Bill's words. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his shoulder.

"Fleur, could you take Dean, Ron, and Luna upstairs and show them where they'll be staying? I`ll keep an eye on Hermione for a second."

Fleur nodded quietly and led the other three teenagers toward the stairwell. Hermione looked at Bill quizzically.

Bill went to the same cabinet from which Fleur had taken the Essence of Dittany earlier. He plucked a bottle off one of the lower shelves and carried it over to Hermione. He offered it to her without a word.

Hermione turned the small green bottle over in her hand. The label was written in a flowery, flowing hand, probably Fleur's. _Anti-Conception Potion_, she read. Hermione looked up at Bill in shock.

"Do the others know?" he inquired quietly, his voice soft and gentle.

Hermione shook her head. "No… how did _you_ know?" she asked.

Bill reached up to brush his fingertips across the scars that marred the left side of his face. "Greyback might not have turned me when he bit me in his human form, but there are some lasting effects. I caught his scent when you were on the beach. I can _smell_ him on you."

Hermione looked down, embarrassed as tears began to fill her eyes.

Bill knelt before her, his large, warm hand closed over hers around the delicate bottle. "Hermione, if you don't want to say anything, I can promise you they won't hear it from me. None of them."

"Thank you." Hermione's voice was barely audible. She could hear footsteps as the boys thudded back down the stairs, having been informed that the living room was their bedroom for the time-being.

"Do you…" Bill cleared his throat cautiously, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation at hand. "Do you want a shower or anything? Harry is out digging a grave for Dobby, I`m sure there would be time before we bury him…"

Hermione sucked in a deep breath. "No, I want to go out and help dig the grave," she said softly. "A cleansing spell would be nice, but they took my wand…"

"Er, right." The footsteps on the stairs were closer now. Bill raised his wand and Hermione felt a wave of warmth and peace wash over her entire body, so totally unlike the cold _Scourgify_ that Bellatrix had cast. Hermione uncorked the phial of potion and tossed it back, swallowing it in a single gulp. Bill vanished the bottle just as Ron and Dean rounded the corner; Fleur followed close behind them, tucking a bottle of Skele-Gro in her pocket.

"We're going to go help Harry," Ron said.

Hermione unsteadily got to her feet. "I`m coming too."

"No, you are not," Fleur's voice interrupted imperiously. "You must rest, 'ermione. The Cruciatus Curse is painful; you will be sore for a while. It is better that you rest now." She crossed quickly over to the couch and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder, gently pushing her back down.

Ron shot an apologetic glance over his shoulder as he and Dean stepped out the door. Bill went upstairs to check on Olivander and Griphook while Fleur bustled around the kitchen, preparing a meal for everyone and periodically popping her head into the living room to make sure that Hermione was still resting.

Hermione's head sank back into the pillow near the arm of the couch. A choking feeling was building within her and she held her breath, afraid that even breathing would cause her to start sobbing aloud. She couldn't do that. If she started crying, someone would ask her about what had happened and she would have no answer to give them. _Better just to let them assume that it was only the Cruciatus Curse, _Hermione thought. _I can't tell anyone what really happened. I can't deal with reliving it and I couldn't bear it for someone else to have to share in those memories too._

She slowly pulled a breath of air in, filling her lungs and holding it for a second. Then she released it slowly, allowing the whisper of its movement to flow over her lips as her lungs deflated. There was something calming about that. She focused on breathing and allowed the slow pace to consume her, driving all other thoughts out of her head for a few blissful moments of freedom.

By the time Harry had finished digging the grave, Hermione felt numb. Fleur had given her a clean dressing gown and, as she picked her way up the dunes to the gravesite, she almost convinced herself that none of it had happened – that she was merely tired and sore from too much travel and in dire need of a hot bath. She watched as Harry lowered Dobby's body into the grave, but she couldn't think of anything to say. She didn't think she could muster the energy to speak, even. When they had pushed the dirt back over the grave, Ron helped her back down the shifting sand of the dune toward the house.

Hermione felt a wave of relief rush over her as he led her into the cottage's sitting room. She rested her head against his shoulder for a moment and breathed in the deep, masculine scent. She was safe here, she reminded herself. Ron was stiff and awkward, as though he didn't know quite what to do, but he managed to loop an arm around her and embrace her closely. Hermione's breath caught at the close contact and her heart started to pound, but she forced herself to remember who she was with and that there was no reason to be afraid.

As if in response to her thoughts, the aching between her legs seemed to increase. Hermione ignored it. _No one can know,_ she thought. _No one can ever know._

Bill walked back into the house and sniffed cautiously. He scowled slightly; no one would have noticed it if they were not looking for it. Hermione was. She saw him test the air and saw his eyes darken. She shivered in disgust, ashamed at what had happened and that Bill knew and horrified also that she had brought the reminder of the werewolf into Bill's own house.

When Harry came back into the house, Hermione was glad to see the sense of purpose he brought with him. He seemed like every inch of the man that Dumbledore had prepared for this mission. He spoke only briefly with Hermione and Ron before the three of them went upstairs to talk to Griphook and Olivander.

Harry had realized what Hermione had while they were back at Malfoy manor, though he had given it more thought than she. Bellatrix was afraid – deathly afraid – that they had been in her Gringott's vault. There was a Horcrux inside.

Their wands were gone, left at Malfoy Manor. Olivander identified the two wands that Harry had managed to snatch and bring out with them. He kept Malfoy's, since he had rightfully won it by taking it from Draco. That left Hermione with Bellatrix's walnut want.

It felt evil when it touched her hand. The feel of it chilled her to the core; this wand knew who she was. It _remembered _her. It thrummed against her palm, aching, begging to be used again to inflict pain and punishment. Olivander said that the wand learns from the wizard and the wizard for the wand. Evidently, this wand had adapted some of Bellatrix's penchant for pain.

For the most part, over the coming weeks that they spent in Shell Cottage, Hermione avoided the walnut wand as much as possible, preferring instead to borrow Ron or Harry's. She worked diligently on a new batch of Polyjuice potion.

It had been Harry's idea to check the sweater that Hermione had been wearing at Malfoy Manor for Death Eater hair. When she found out the plan for her to take Bellatrix's form for the trip to Gringotts, her stomach churned. The wand, on the other hand, seemed quite content with the idea. As the Polyjuice matured, the walnut wand seemed happy, performing Hermione's bidding with a minimum of fuss.

A month passed. The day was fast approaching when they would leave Shell Cottage. Hermione had terrible nightmares almost every night. She hated waking her sleeping companion when she shuddered awake at all hours, but often she woke to find that Luna was already awake. The blond-haired Ravenclaw spent hours and hours staring out the window of the small room and would scarcely move when Hermione jolted awake in the bed behind her. Sometimes Luna would turn and give her a sad smile, but neither of them said anything.

During daylight hours, the two of them never spoke of the reason they could not sleep at night. Hermione knew that Luna had been trapped at Malfoy Manor for several months before she, Harry, and Ron had arrived. Hermione suspected that she could guess more or less what had taken place, although she surmised that Luna had the same reason to keep silent that she did. '_Memorium Equaltae Combinaras'_…

Hermione had easily grasped the meaning of the spell when she first heard it and Bellatrix's explanation only reinforced what she had already guessed. It was a simple spell, really, though disastrous in its effects. Even though Bellatrix had said that she had invented it herself, Hermione still checked every book she could find in Shell Cottage, including Bill's collection from his Cursebreaking days at Gringotts. There was no mention of the spell Bellatrix had used, nor any similar spells. This of course meant that there was no counter curse.

It was almost time. They were going over the final plans for the trip to Gringotts; the Polyjuice was simmering in the sitting room and the walnut wand was warm and pulsing as it rested in the back pocket of Hermione's jeans.

"You'll be using her actual wand," said Harry, nodding toward the walnut wand as they sat together one night, "so I reckon you'll be pretty convincing."

Hermione looked frightened that the wand might sting or bite her as she picked it up. "I hate this thing," she said in a low voice. "I really hate it." The wand vibrated slightly and Hermione swore it would have trilled if it had a voice. "It feels all wrong, it doesn't work properly for me…. It's like a bit of _her_." _Like a constant reminder of everything I`d rather forget._

Harry didn't understand. He had used the blackthorn wand, even though it wasn't his. It didn't work properly, but it worked. It didn't feel _right_, like his own wand had always suited him, but it did the job. The walnut wand would do the same for Hermione if only she would just use it and stop borrowing his or Ron's every chance she could. He chose not to repeat her own advice back to her, though, that she should simply practice. The eve of their attempted assault on Gringotts felt like the wrong moment to antagonize her.

Hermione stirred the Polyjuice potion one last time and ladled a portion into a small phial. The bitter liquid stung her nose and she conjured a cork to stopper the phial. As the wand breathed in the scent of the potion, it gave a small jump. For the briefest flash, Hermione was back in Malfoy Manor, looking at herself through Bellatrix's eyes. She saw the form of her own naked body cast on the floor, covered in blood. She saw her lips moving, forming soundless words. She felt Bellatrix's pleasure and the warmth of power coursing through her veins. She felt the full lips form a single word and felt the power of the dark spell filling her. "_Crucio!_" Bellatrix shrieked.

Then, only a heartbeat later, Hermione was back in Shell Cottage. She was sitting on the sitting room floor, holding the Polyjuice potion in her hand. Fleur and Luna were in the kitchen preparing supper, Harry was upstairs talking to Griphook and Ron and Dean were out in the garden helping Bill tend the plants. She felt for an instant like she was going mad. Hermione threw the walnut wand away from her and watched as it rolled across the uneven wooden floor.

Hermione stored the phial of potion for use the next day. She picked up the wand, carefully using a spare cloth to prevent her from touching it again. She carried it upstairs and left it wrapped up in the drawer of the bedside table.

That night, Hermione took Luna's customary spot beside the window. The Ravenclaw lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling while Hermione gazed out over the ocean. Eventually Luna's breath evened out and the steady rise and fall of her chest told Hermione that at least one of them had managed to fall into a smooth slumber.

Sleep did not come at all for Hermione that night.

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I have decided, after seeing all the wonderful reviews, that this should be more than just a one-shot and will be developing it into a full story. I hope you all enjoy and please do **review** and let me know what you think. I like to hear predictions, questions, criticism, random musings, etc. Please be sure to leave a comment and let me know if you've enjoyed this so far.


	3. Gringotts

Ron woke up early on the day they were to go to Gringotts. He stayed in bed and gazed the inside of the cottage, lit in the purple shadows of the pre-dawn morning. The peaceful clutter of the small house reminded him of the Burrow and he felt a pang of sadness as he thought of home. It was months since the night of Bill and Fleur's wedding – the last time he has seen his family.

Before sunrise, he heard Bill and Fleur moving around their bedroom upstairs. A few minutes later, Bill stumbled down, still yawning as the sleep left his eyes. He noticed Ron's watchful gaze and grinned the trademark Weasley smile. "You're up early."

"Yeah," Ron replied simply; he said nothing else.

"Dean and Luna are leaving today." Bill's voice made it clear that there was a further question he was not asking. _Why are you and Harry and Hermione not going with them?_

"Mm-hum."

Seeing that he would not get any information out of his younger brother, Bill turned toward the kitchen and began preparing breakfast for the household. Fleur descended the stairs just as the bacon was beginning to pop in the frying pan. "Meester Olivander says 'ee is feeling well. 'ee should be able to travel in ano'zer week."

Ron nodded, not really paying attention. His thoughts were fixed on the day's events. Hermione and Luna came downstairs right in time for breakfast and Ron rolled out of bed to shake Dean and Harry awake. They grumbled initially but then caught the scent of food wafting from the kitchen and jumped out of bed.

After breakfast, Dean and Luna clasped onto a worn whelk shell that Fleur had found on the beach. The Portkey spun them out of Shell Cottage and off to Auntie Muriel's safe haven. Harry shot Ron and Hermione a meaningful look. It was time to go. Hermione excused herself to run upstairs and get something while Ron and Harry offered to clean the kitchen so that Bill and Fleur could go for a walk on the beach.

Hermione closed the door behind her and stripped off her clothes. Bellatrix was taller than she was, and larger in the chest. After the Polyjuice transformation was complete, she would transform something into more suitable robes that would fit properly. Hermione gingerly picked up the phial of Polyjuice potion and the glass container that held Bellatrix's hair. Her hand brushed against the walnut want and she knew that it was trembling with desire to be used as its former mistress would have used it. Hermione added the hair to the potion and watched it bubble. _I don't want to do this_, she though rebelliously as she tossed her head back and drank down the potion.

The familiar burning and bubbling sensation washed over her body as her features twisted and morphed to take on Bellatrix's form. Hermione grit her teeth and waited. Curly black hair fell forward across her face and heavy eye-lids pressed down, obscuring her vision. Her mouth was dry and as her tongue flicked out to brush over-full lips, she felt a chill run through her. She didn't like this body, didn't want to be in this body.

Hermione's hand reached out to take the walnut wand and she turned it toward a throw blanket, ready to manufacture for herself suitable clothes. The wand pulsed fiercely in her hand and Hermione let out a soft cry as she fell to the ground.

_The gigantic stone room in Malfoy Manor was empty, save for three figures and a wooden table. Hermione walked to the table slowly, hesitantly. None of the other three figures saw her or gave any notice. _

_Hermione watched as Bellatrix flicked her wand and the memory-Hermione's limp body was flung over the table. The green ropes twined around her and she whimpered softly. It was hard to believe that the naked blood-streaked figure on the table was her. Hermione choked back a scream as she watched Greyback approach, as she saw Bellatrix's mad, lust-filled stare. _

_The figure on the table screamed as Greyback ripped into her and then the memory twisted and changed. _

_Hermione was in a small, square cell. The stone walls were just far enough apart that she could touch two opposite sides when she extended her arms out fully. The ceiling was at least fifteen feet above her and Hermione felt dwarfed by the height. Luna was wrapped in a thin and tattered robe and crouched in one of the corners. Her face and wrists were bruised and her thick blond hair was matted and dirty. She stared emptily at the wall. _

_Bellatrix Apparated into the room, but Luna gave no indication of even seeing her. Hermione remembered how detached Luna had always seemed when other students at Hogwarts had mocked her for her strangeness. That same apparent disinterest was present here. _

_Bellatrix pulled Luna to her feet. The Ravenclaw turned her face to the side, refusing to even acknowledge the Death Eater's presence. "More students are disappearing at Hogwarts," Bellatrix hissed, "Members of Dumbledore's Army. Where are they hiding?" _

_Luna smiled calmly and shook her head. "I haven't the faintest idea." _

_Bellatrix snarled and her free hand dug into one of her robe pockets to pull out the silver knife that Hermione knew too well._

Ron dashed upstairs as soon as he heard Hermione cry out. A crash told him that the dish he had been washing had fallen to the ground and broken. Harry started after him, but Ron waved him back. He didn't know why he did this, only that he felt like somehow it was his job to check on Hermione and make sure she was alright – it was his job to protect her.

Ron froze as soon as he burst through the doorway. Bellatrix Lestrange was curled up naked on the floor in the middle of the room. Her hand clutched her wand and trembled. Tears streaked down her face. Ron forced himself to remember that, despite the physical appearance, this was not a psychopathic murderess. This was Hermione. He approached her slowly and knelt down beside her. He eased the wand out of her grip and she shuddered and relaxed her tense muscles.

_Bellatrix ripped the robe away from Luna's thin frame. She spun the young girl around and shoved her against the wall. Luna caught herself with her hands braced against the wall at shoulder height. Hermione could see a dozen thin, parallel lines that streaked across her back from shoulder blade to shoulder blade._

"_You're a blood-traitor_,"_ Bellatrix whispered._ _"You and your family – consorting with mudbloods and opposing the Dark Lord…" She dug the knife in just beneath the last and freshest line; blood welled up and trickled down over the too-visible bones of the back of her ribcage. Luna said nothing, but leaned her forehead against the stones. "Do you know what I do to blood-traitors?" Bellatrix drug the knife, cutting through the thin flesh. _

_Luna sucked in a sudden gasp and bit her lip. The fingers of her right hand traced an endless pattern on the stone beneath her palm. _

_Bellatrix tucked the knife away again and leaned in, wrapping her arms around Luna's frame. Her tongue flicked out to catch one of the drops of blood flowing down. She licked upward, leaving a red smear over the ridges that marked past knife-wounds. Luna shivered involuntarily._

_The shrill cackle of Bellatrix's laugh reverberated off the wall. She pushed Luna down to the cold floor. "_Crucio!"_ Luna writhed soundlessly on the floor as the pain coursed through her. When the spell lifted, Bellatrix aimed a well-placed kick between her legs. Luna curled in on herself. She closed her eyes but still said nothing. _

_Bellatrix pounced on her prey. Her fingers slid down between Luna's legs and pierced into the dry entrance. Luna arched back and tried to pull away, but Bellatrix grabbed her by the throat and held her down. Bellatrix's fingers curled inside her. _

_Hermione was in agony as she watched her friend being violated. There was nothing she could do in this memory. She tried to pull Bellatrix away, but her hands slipped right through the memory. She wanted to scream with frustration. Luna was silent as Bellatrix punished her, digging her fingers into tender flesh and whispering cruelties in her ear. _

_When she finished with her young victim, Bellatrix stood up. She aimed a lazy kick at Luna's thin ribs. "You disgust me, Blood-traitor. I don't know why I bother with you. I should just give you away. Maybe Dolohov would like you." She regarded Luna pitilessly. "No, you're too old for him. MacNair, then? Or how about Snape?" She laughed at the tremor that went through Luna's frame. "You like that idea? How would you like to warm your professor's bed? I imagine he'd have some potions that could render you a bit more… lively." _

_Luna sat up slowly; she was in obvious pain but tried not to show it. "We're going to defeat you," she said softly in her usual still, calm voice, "you and all of Voldemort's followers. The Order of the Phoenix lives. Dumbledore's Army lives."_

_Bellatrix's features contorted with rage. _"Crucio," _she hissed. _

Hermione gasped for air as she came out of the memory. She was sweating and her thick hair clung to her naked back. Ron was holding her, cradling her in his arms.

"Hermione. Hermione, Hermione," he repeated over and over again, whispering her name against her hair.

She stirred and that was his first recognition that she had returned. "Mione, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Memory," Hermione cleared her throat hoarsely. She felt as though she had been screaming for hours. "Just a memory."

Ron looked around in confusion. "There's no Pensieve here."

"No, it was… something else." Hermione stood up carefully, her legs trembling slightly. She realized that she was naked and spun around, covering herself from Ron's sight. "Ron! What are you doing in here?"

Ron flushed as red as his hair. "'m sorry," he mumbled. "Thought you were in trouble. 'sides, it's not like it's your body."

Hermione looked around and spotted her reflection in the mirror. Bellatrix. _Ohgod-Ohgod-Ohgod!_ She swallowed hard and remembered taking the polyjuice potion and picking up the wand.

Ron stood up behind her and set to work transfiguring clothes for her. He handed them to her. "Here," he said gruffly, his ears still burning.

She reached out and took them, her hand brushing his. "Thanks."

Ron nodded abruptly.

"Hey, erm, Ron?" Hermione's voice was tentative. "Could you… not say anything about this?"

"Sure." He shrugged his shoulders. "I'll, er… just wait outside then."

* * *

When Hermione picked up the wand again, it behaved itself. But she regarded it distrustfully as she slipped it into her robe. She dipped into the other room to find Griphook and the two of them strode out to the lawn behind the house in search of Harry and Ron. She tucked the small, beaded bag inside her robes. When she looked up, she could see a shiver of loathing run through Harry as it took him a moment to remember that it was, in fact, her and not Bellatrix.

"She tasted _disgusting, _worse than Gurdyroots!" Hermione quipped. She still felt wrong, being in Bellatrix's skin. She had used Polyjuice plenty of times, but had never felt like her skin was crawling as it did now. "Okay, Ron, come here so I can do you…"

It took them several minutes to finish getting ready, but finally they started to walk out under the fading stars toward the Disapparation point.

Griphook climbed up on Harry piggy-back style, and Hermione flung the Cloak over them. "Perfect," she said. "I can't see a thing. Let's go." She listened as they apparated and then took a brief second to compose herself. She straightened her back and squared her jaw. _I can do this_, she said to herself. _I can be Bellatrix Lestrange for a while… if I have to. I can do this. _

Hermione closed her eyes as she turned on the spot and vanished.

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**Review!**


	4. Chamber of Secrets

Hermione was in the Chamber of Secrets with Ron when they heard Voldemort's message boom throughout the castle. "Give me Harry Potter," said Voldemort's voice, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

She and Ron shared a terrified glance. Midnight was only a few hours away and they still had three Horcruxes to destroy: Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's diadem and Nagini.

"Let's get on with this one then," Ron said as he handed Hermione the basilisk fang. The cup sat innocuously on the ground in front of them. "You do it."

Hermione tentatively gripped the fang. The smooth white bone fit easily in the curve of her hand and the surface was cool against her flesh. She kept her fingers well away from the point, where the deadly venom was still contained in small pressure-activated pouches in the hollow tooth.

"It will try to defend itself," Ron told her. "The locket did for me – it's going to try to make you doubt yourself. Just kill it as fast as you can."

Hermione nodded as the blood washed out of her face. She tightened her grip on the fang. Ron opened his mouth and made a strangled hissing sound.

A wave of swirling, opaque mist poured out of the cup. It ran onto the floor and spread out along the causeway that ran down the Chamber of Secrets.

"Hermione!" Ron cried as the mist rose up in a curtain, separating them from view. Hermione whirled around, trying to find Ron, trying to see the cup so that she could deliver the killing blow.

"Mudblood Granger," Voldemort's voice hissed. "You know you cannot win. You know that I will overtake the castle – that I am conquering Hogwarts even now. You know that the Boy Who Lived will soon die, as will all those who fight with him. You cannot complete your task."

The mist began to form around her: Harry lay dead on the ground a few steps away from her and she ran toward him. "No!" Hermione whispered, her voice caught in her throat. She reached forward, her heart in her throat. She knew this was not Harry, only a creation of the mist that was still pouring out of the cup. She heard a scream and spun, her eyes fighting to pierce the thick haze that surrounded her. It was Ron's voice. "Ron!" she screamed. Her feet slipped over the smooth black surface beneath as she raced in the direction of the voice.

The mist rose up in the shape of Ron, running alongside her. A masked Death Eater stood before them. The misty Death Eater raised its wand. A green flash illuminated the mist and Ron fell backward, his form melting into the foggy surroundings.

"If you stop fighting me now, I can make your death swift." Hermione felt a hand slip into hers and she turned. Ron – the real Ron – was standing beside her.

A ghost of herself rose up in the mist before them and was struck down by a second burst of green. In the eerie glow, Hermione saw the cup through the mist. She moved toward it. Her palms were sweating and the basilisk fang felt heavy in her hand. She adjusted her grip to keep it from falling free.

"If you continue to defy me," the voice continued, its timbre silky sweet and deadly, "I will hand you over to a fate worse than death – the fate that awaits all of your birth in my new world." Hermione was standing over the cup now, the fang held tight in one hand. She raised her arm.

The mist took form again. Hermione saw – and she knew Ron did too – a vision of herself as she had appeared at Malfoy Manor, moments before Fenrir raped her: naked, covered in blood, and tied outstretched on the table. Bellatrix was gloating beside her; long fingernails traced languidly over her bare flesh. Fenrir stalked a pace or two away from the table, waiting anxiously to be invited forward.

Hermione lunged. The basilisk fang slid through the white mist and the image of Bellatrix melted away as the fang drove through her ghostly heart and down to the cup. There was a terrible sound – like the scream of a dying hippogriff – and the mist vanished. Hermione was shaking. She didn't realize she had released the fang until she heard it clatter on the floor. She was on her knees; the cup of Hufflepuff withered in front of her, emitting vain puffs of smoke. She heard Ron behind her and felt his hand rest on her shoulder – he was shaking too.

"Alright there, Hermione?" he asked, and his voice trembled a little.

"I think so," she replied, beginning to push herself up off the ground. Ron helped pull her to her feet.

"What was that?" Ron asked and Hermione cursed inwardly. "That last bit?"

Hermione shook her head. She couldn't tell him and yet didn't want to lie and pretend that it was nothing. A part of her needed him to know, even if she didn't _want_ him to know. A part of her wanted his comfort, his arms around her, his voice whispering reassurances to her. "He was trying to scare me into giving up," she said finally.

Ron shifted his weight on his feet. He wanted to hold her. He wasn't quite sure where this urge had come from or how long it had been there, but he realized that he wanted to touch her – had wanted to for years. It was she he had come back for in the Forest of Dean. More than Harry, more than their mission, it was Hermione who had drawn him back. It was her voice that had reached out through the Deluminator on Christmas morning.

He remembered how he had felt after he had killed the locket Horcrux. Even though he knew that Riddle's words had been lies designed to disconcert and discomfit him, that knowledge did not lessen their effect. For days afterward, he had felt unsure of whether or not Hermione and Harry were really glad to have him back. Even still, he sometimes woke with the echo of Riddle's lies in his ears. He knew that this – what he had seen in the mist and whatever Hermione had seen before he found his way to her – would stay with her for a while.

"He's just trying to get to you," Ron said softly. "Whatever he said – it's not true. And that last… that's not going to happen. We're not going to let that happen. There's only two horcruxes left. Only two more and then he'll be mortal again."

Hermione said nothing, but she leaned toward him and his arms came up around her in a movement that was so natural he scarcely noticed what he was doing until he felt her warm weight against his chest.

Her bushy hair rustled against his neck and underneath his chin. Ron wasn't quite sure, but he thought she might be crying. He leaned his head down, resting his cheek against her head. Her hair smelled like the cold, fresh water of the lake the dragon had dropped them in earlier that afternoon. "Two more. Then we can end this. Then it will all be over," he said.

Hermione sniffed back her tears. Ron was right: they had two more horcruxes to take care of. One way or another, this would end tonight. Now was not the time for tears. There was no time to spare – no time to enjoy the feel of Ron's arms around her. She did not want to pull away, but she did. "Two more," she repeated. "Let's go then. We'll find Harry, we'll find the horcruxes, and then…" She took a deep breath. "Then Voldemort." _And Bellatrix_, she added silently. _I have my own score to settle there._

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**A/N: **in regards to the canon, I give the books preference over the films. In the book, Ron and Hermione's first kiss is _after_ the Chamber of Secrets, when Ron says he wants to make sure the house elves get out of the castle safely.

Next up: The Battle of Hogwarts!

As always, **please REVIEW! **_  
_


	5. Battle of Hogwarts

They had destroyed Hufflepuff's cup in the Chamber of Secrets. They destroyed the Diadem in the Room of Requirement. All that stood between them and victory – all that stood between Voldemort and death – was one more Horcrux. All that was left was Nagini, and then Harry would be able to defeat him.

The battle raged furiously in the castle. The tight halls were filled with flashes of curses and dust hung in the air as the ancient stones cracked and crumbled with the force of Voldemort's attack. The open spaces were filled will yells and bangs and dozens of duels raged simultaneously. The dead lay where they fell, and were stepped on and stepped over by the living who were still fighting.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were careful to avoid the bodies as they raced down the stairs toward the Great Hall. They had to find Nagini. They had to kill the snake. They sped past witches and wizards locked in fierce duels. There was no time to stop. No time to mourn the dead – no time even for Ron to cry over his brother's body. There would be time for that later. For now, all that mattered was their mission. One way or another, this would end tonight.

They saw two people fall from a balcony overhead. A gray blur that looked more animal than human sped four-legged across the hall to sink its teeth into one of the fallen. "NO!" shrieked Hermione. She saw who it was. He turned at the sound of her voice and his lips pulled back in a feral smile. His eyes gleamed in the dim light and Hermione felt her knees buckle as she trembled under his gaze. A flood of memories rushed over her and she froze: _his hands on her hips, his body thrusting against hers, his throaty growls of pleasure as she screamed..._ He turned to the young woman sprawled on the stones in front of him. Hermione was trembling. _I have to move. I have to do something. _But her fear at seeing him paralyzed her.

His teeth tore into the throat of the woman before him and a gush of blood spurted out, coating his face. Steam rose from the open wound as hot blood felt the brush of cold air. Hermione yelled as she stepped forward, all her rage and fear flowing down her arm and giving fuel to her spell. With a deafening blast from her wand, Fenrir Greyback was thrown backward from the feebly stirring body of Lavender Brown. He hit the marble banisters and struggled to return to his feet. Then, with a bright white flash and a crack, one of Trelawney's crystal balls fell on top of his head, and he crumpled to the ground and did not move.

Hermione felt no joy at his death. She had expected to feel… something. Relief, maybe. A sense of closure. Something other than this emptiness. She had hesitated. She had allowed her fear to paralyze her and now Lavender was dead. Instead of relief at Greyback's death, all she felt was guilt and shame that she had not acted only a few seconds sooner.

The heavy wooden front doors burst open and gigantic spiders forced their way into the entrance hall. Screams of terror rent the air: The fighters scattered, Death Eaters and Hogwartians alike, and red and green jets of light flew into the midst of the oncoming monsters, which shuddered and reared, more terrifying than ever.

Hermione felt Ron's hand grab hers. The arachnophobic young man's hand was slick with sweat and he was visibly shaking at the sight of the spiders as he pulled Hermione away from the fray. "How do we get out?" yelled Ron over all the screaming. Harry didn't answer, but dashed forward, darting between spiders and spells. Ron swallowed hard. He and Hermione had to run bent double to avoid the curses that illuminated the whole hall. They crossed the expansive lawn beside the castle, avoiding swipes from giants and trolls as they ran. When they arrived at the Whomping Willow, Ron directed a twig to jab at the place near the roots and, at once, the writhing tree became perfectly still. They slipped through the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack – the tunnel that had seemed so large in their third year, but which they now had to crouch to pass through. Finally, they heard voices coming from the room directly ahead of them, only slightly muffled by the fact that the opening at the end of the tunnel had been blocked by what looked like an old crate. Hermione and Ron waited, crouched in the dark, damp tunnel as Harry slipped ahead alone, under cover of his Invisibility Cloak, to spy on Voldemort and Snape.

* * *

A few hours before dawn, Voldemort spoke again. His words echoed in the hearts and ears of every which and wizard in Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. "You have fought," said the high, cold voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Hermione stared at Harry in the dim light of the Shrieking Shack and shook her head frantically. She could see his resolve strengthening. She could see that he had made up his mind – perhaps without realizing it himself yet – to meet Voldemort even if it meant his death.

"Don't listen to him," said Ron.

"It'll be alright," said Hermione wildly. "Let's – let's get back to the castle. If he's gone to the forest, we'll need to think of a new plan –" She knew before she spoke that it was useless. Harry would meet Voldemort within the hour. And they still had one Horcrux to destroy. They crawled back through the tunnel, none of them talking, and Hermione wondered whether Harry and Ron could still hear Voldemort ringing in their heads, as she could.

The castle was unnaturally silent as they approached. Ron led the way across the blood-stained flagstones of the deserted entrance hall to the Great Hall. The House tables were gone and the room was crowded. Survivors stood in small groups, Madam Pomfrey and her helpers treated the injured, and the dead lay in a row down the middle of the Hall. The Weasleys clustered around Fred's body. Ron and Hermione went to join them as Harry stood back. Hermione hugged Ginny, whose face was swollen and blotchy. Ron stood in frozen silence with Bill, Fleur and Percy.

Over Ginny's heaving shoulders, Hermione saw as Harry tentatively approached the group. He froze at the feet of two bodies laid out next to Fred: Remus and Tonks, pale and still and peaceful-looking, apparently asleep beneath the dark, enchanted ceiling. Hermione watched as he reeled back in shock. She almost pried Ginny's arms away from her to follow as Harry fled the hall. But she didn't. Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around the red-headed girl. She knew that, before sunrise, Harry would meet Voldemort. She could afford to spend another minute comforting her friend. Then she would find the snake. Hermione was determined that Nagini – the last Horcrux – would be dead before Harry went to the Forbidden Forest.

After a few minutes, Hermione sidled over toward Ron. "We have to find the last Horcrux," she whispered.

Ron looked around. "Where's Harry?"

"He's gone," said Hermione simply. Her face was drawn and her voice tense. "We have to finish this. Harry is going to the Forbidden Forest before sunrise and we have to be sure that Voldemort is mortal before then."

Ron paled, but he straightened his back and stepped away from his family, still circled around Fred. "Let's find that snake."

* * *

Their hour elapsed more quickly than they could have imagined. Every tracing spell Hermione tried failed to pick up the snake. Ron finally suggested a locator spell that would indicate every snake in a three-mile radius, but that showed up thousands of snakes in the Forbidden Forest. They managed to alter the spell to show only snakes over five feet long, since they remembered Mr. Weasley's description of the giant snake that had attacked him in the Ministry of Magic. There will still hundreds of snakes – far too many to track down.

Precious time slipped away. The hour had elapsed but they had not heard anything more from Voldemort or the Death Eaters. There was still hope. Until they knew otherwise, there was always hope. Hermione ran a weary hand through her tangled hair. "It has to be with him," she said. "The snake has to be with Voldemort. He was protecting it at the Shrieking Shack; he has to be protecting it still."

"How do we kill it, then?" asked Ron.

Hermione bit her lip. "We have to find Voldemort."

"You-Know-Who will be surrounded by Death Eaters," he reminded her. Even after all this time, Ron was still the most reticent to say his name.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione snapped. "Harry is going to fight Voldemort and if we don't kill the snake, he will die. Are you coming with me or not?"

"Of course I am," Ron replied.

"We have to hurry. We don't have a lot of time left." They started toward the mangled remains of the wooden doors of the entrance hall. "And, Ron –" Hermione added, "all that matters is killing the snake. No matter what happens to you or to me, we have to kill the snake. It's the only way Harry or anyone else will have a fighting chance against Voldemort."

They were too late. Before they even reached the threshold, they heard a terrible scream.

"NO!" McGonagall's voice split the air in a cry more desperate and terrible than either of them could ever have imagined from her. A second voice followed, the sound of a woman laughing. Hermione cringed – it was the sound of Bellatrix Lestrange reveling in someone's pain.

Ron and Hermione ran forward, joined quickly by the throng of survivors that poured out of the Great Hall and onto the stone courtyard.

Hermione stumbled forward, pushed from behind by the weight of the people behind her. Then she saw him. Harry was dead. Hagrid – bound by thick ropes and guided by a swarm of Death Eaters – cradled the limp body in his arms. Tears streamed down Hagrid's face and soaked his beard. Hermione felt her own eyes stinging as well.

"No!"

"_No!_"

"Harry! HARRY!"

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all cried out together, their voices tumbling over each other. Hermione was not even aware of screaming; the words tore from her throat without conscious thought. She rushed forward, into the open expanse that separated the Hogwartians from the Death Eaters. At her side, Ginny ran forward too, screaming Harry's name. Ron's arms looped around Hermione and pulled her back as his father did the same for Ginny. Hermione sobbed uncontrollably as Ron held her against his chest. "The snake," he whispered. His mouth was so close to her ear that she could feel the movement of his lips rustle her hair. "We still have to kill the snake." Hermione nodded almost imperceptibly and Ron eased his encircling grip, allowing her to pull away.

"SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light and silence was forced upon them all. The survivors who crowded the steps of Hogwarts continued to wail soundlessly, as Hermione had writhed in silent pain at Malfoy Manor. She shook her head violently, as if that motion could wipe away the memories.

"It is over!" Voldemort continued. "Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet where he belongs!" Tears ran unchecked down Hermione's face, but she felt Ron's feather-light touch against her wrist. She slipped her hand into her pocket and found Bellatrix's wand. It felt hot and heavy, rebellious against her touch. Hermione gripped it tightly – she would not let this wand fight her any longer. A wave of determination surged through her and ran down her arm into the wand, overwhelming its resistance and forcing it to her will.

"You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him."

"He beat you!" yelled Ron, breaking the Silence charm that Voldemort had cast on them.

Hermione eased the wand free from her robes, but kept it hidden from view. Nagini was slithering among the Death Eaters, curling between their legs. _Wait_, she told herself, _wait until you know you can't miss_.

Nagini left the crowd of Death Eaters and Hermione's grip tightened on the wand as the snake slithered out of view. Her eyes scanned the rubble of fallen and broken stone, waiting for Nagini to reappear.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," lied Voldemort triumphantly, "killed while trying to save himself –"

But Voldemort broke off: Neville Longbottom lunged forward with a shout, his wand drawn and aimed directly at the Dark Lord's face. Bellatrix waved her wand and, with a bang and a flash of light, Neville hit the ground. He grunted in pain and stood to his feet, now alone in the stony patio between the two armies. Voldemort had caught the flying wand and he tossed it aside with cavalier disregard. "And who is this?" he said in his soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh.

Hermione shivered and her fingers clenched around the wand still hidden behind the folds of her robes. _Not yet_, she told herself. _First we have to kill the snake. We have to destroy the last Horcrux._

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord," she screeched happily. "The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who stood, unarmed and unprotected, in the no-man's-land between the survivor's and the Death Eaters.

Neville was brave, but when the Sorting Hat descended over his eyes and burst into flames, he screamed. And the sound of his pain split the air, freeing the rest of the survivors again from Voldemort's Silencing charm. The Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the rest of the survivors back from helping Neville.

Hermione felt sick as she watched, but she caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye: _Nagini_. The snake curled atop a pile of rubble, twisting in on itself and preparing to strike. Hermione stepped back, so that when she raised her wand, it would be hidden still behind Ron and others in the Hogwarts crowd. It didn't matter anymore if the Death Eaters killed her when they saw her raising her wand, she realized. All that mattered was that she manage to kill the snake before they killed her.

Before Hermione could strike, Neville broke free of Voldemort's Body-Bind curse. The flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle that shone in the early dawn light. The slash of the silver blade drew every eye. With a single stroke, Neville sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air. Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet.

The battle resumed. There was no more pretense of Voldemort trying to convert the Hogwartians to his side; he was determined that everyone who fought him would be slaughtered.

Centaurs poured over the broken walls. Grawp challenged Voldemort's giants with a loud cry of "HAGGER!" Thestrals and Hagrid's herd of hippogriffs scratched at eyes. The human battlers, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike, were forced back into the castle. Charlie Weasley and Horace Slughorn led a group down the stairs – they had brought reinforcements through the passage from Hogsmeade into the Room of Requirement. The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, led by Kreacher. They wielded knives and cleavers, and hacked at the ankles and shins of every Death Eater in reach.

The witches and wizards were pushed into the Great Hall. Voldemort soon found himself occupied dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once, and there was cold hatred in his face as they wove and ducked around him, unable to finish him. Hermione scanned the crowd, looking for her own target. Bellatrix was fifty yards away, watching her master's battle. Hermione attacked first, firing curses at Bellatrix as she ran across the Hall. Bellatrix blocked the spells easily and turned to meet her young challenger.

"Ah, my little Mudblood! Come to play?" mocked the dark-haired witch.

Hermione felt a cold rage swell within her. She remembered the dark halls of Malfoy Manor. She remembered the pain. She remembered her own helplessness as Bellatrix tortured and toyed with her. She remembered the fear, the anguish, the humiliation that Bellatrix had inflicted upon her. Hermione raised her wand. "_Crucio!_"

Bellatrix deflected the curse, but her smile vanished. She snarled and took up a dueler's stance.

Hermione was a powerful witch, but she quickly realized that she was no match for Bellatrix. After that first attack, she had little chance to go on the offensive – all of her energy was devoted to shielding herself from Bellatrix's fierce spells. The stones beneath her feet grew hot as spells whipped between the two witches. And then a third joined in – Luna appeared at Hermione's side, her pale face set with determination. She did not look at Hermione or speak, but simple set her wand to work.

Bellatrix laughed, her voice high and cruel. "Mudblood and blood-traitor – my two little toys. Surely you know that you have already lost. There is no hope for you in the Dark Lord's world."

Neither Hermione nor Luna responded to Bellatrix's taunts. They were both too focused on the battle at hand to risk engaging in a verbal battle that would only distract them.

Ginny soon joined them and the three young witches together were able to match Bellatrix in power. They took turns throwing curses and holding the Shield Charms that protected them. Sweat rolled down Hermione's face and her wand-arm shook as she threw every spell she could think of at Bellatrix. The Death Eater raged, attacking each of the three girls in turn with increasingly violent curses.

Bellatrix's face was tight with focus. This duel was more challenging than she liked and she realized it was one she might not win. It was time to change the odds. She snarled and turned her wand on Ginny. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Ginny leapt to the side as the spell shot so close that she missed death by an inch. She hit the ground and her hands burned where they connected with the super-heated stones. Bellatrix smiled and aimed her wand again.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

The four duelers – Bellatrix, Ginny, Hermione and Luna – were all distracted by Mrs. Weasley's war cry. The red-headed woman threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley to the three girls, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel. Molly Weasley's wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix Lestrange's smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the hot floor around the witches' feet began to crack under the strain of the spells; both women were fighting to kill.

Hermione stepped forward to rejoin the fight. There was something in her – some dark, terrible part of herself that she hadn't known existed until now – that wanted to be the one to kill Bellatrix. She could feel Luna at her side, a little hesitant but still willing to follow her lead. _Bellatrix belongs to us_, Hermione thought cruelly.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley cried, as Hermione and Luna moved in to her peripheral vision. "Get back! Get back! She is mine!"

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" taunted Bellatrix. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

"You — will — never — touch — our — children — again!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Bellatrix laughed, a haughty, exhilarated laugh. Molly's curse soared beneath Bellatrix's outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart. Bellatrix's gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge: For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled.

Voldemort screamed. McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn were thrown backwards as Voldemort's fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb. He raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.

"_Protego!_" A massive Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall.

Everyone in the hall looked around for the source and Hermione felt hope flare in her chest. _I know that voice. _Hermione screamed in joy as Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. The rest of the Hall quickly fell silent in fear – waiting to see which one would win this final battle. Hermione felt no such fear – she knew that Voldemort was mortal now and she knew that Harry could defeat him.

* * *

After the Final Battle – after Voldemort was dead – the survivors rejoiced. Sometime in the milieu, Luna found Hermione. The Ravenclaw pulled her aside to a secluded corner of the Hall. They sat together on a broken stone statue of a knight – one of the many statues McGonagall had called forth to protect the castle.

"It died with her," Luna stated.

Hermione started. "How do you know?"

"I just know."

"We'd have to test it to be sure." They both looked at each other. Neither of them wanted to risk activating the spell if it was, in fact, still in effect.

Luna took a deep breath. "Bellatrix Lestrange raped me while I was a prisoner at Malfoy Manor." When nothing happened, Hermione left out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Luna was right: Bellatrix's spell had died with her.

Hermione gave no reaction other than a slight nod. "I thought that it would be better once they were dead. But it's not."

"They?" Luna questioned.

"Bellatrix… and Greyback." Hermione pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested her chin on her knees. She felt drained.

Luna reached out a hand to touch Hermione softly on the shoulder. The Gryffindor flinched.

"We've fought a war," Hermione said slowly. "We have killed and we have seen friends die. We've seen such awful things. Why should it matter so much what she did to us?"

Luna was silent for so long that Hermione thought she was ignoring her. When she finally spoke, her words were soft and quiet. "Because she did it to us – it wasn't just something that we saw, it was something we experienced, something we were completely helpless against. And then her curse meant that we couldn't talk about it, couldn't get help." Luna paused. "We were already prisoners, already powerless. She did it because she could and because we couldn't do anything to stop her. Even afterward, she still had power over us because we couldn't say anything."

"But now we can."

"Yes."

"But she's still there," Hermione said. "Every time I close my eyes, every time I'm alone… it's like I'm back in that place."

Luna closed her eyes. "Hermione," she said softly, "even though we can talk about it now…. I really don't want to."

"Oh." Hermione tilted her head and looked at the girl sitting next to her. While Hermione sat with her knees curled protectively against her, Luna sat stiffly, her back ramrod straight and her hands resting tensely on the stone surface at her sides.

"You might talk to Ron, though," said Luna, nodding toward the main crowd in the Great Hall. A distinctive head of red hair was moving toward them. "I think he's looking for you."

"Yeah." Hermione stood slowly. "You'll… you'll be alright though?"

Luna nodded. "Don't worry about me."

Hermione and Ron left the Great Hall together and sat in the entrance hall, on the stairs that led up to the rest of the castle. The stairs didn't seem to want to shift any time soon, so they were able to sit still without worrying about the ground shifting under them. After the sudden kiss they had shared earlier, Hermione worried that Ron might want to talk about where their relationship was going. But – like her – Ron was burned out and exhausted. Too many had died. Too many had suffered in this battle. There would be time for them to talk later. For now, it was enough that they were alive and they were together. There would be time to deal with all that had happened later.

END

* * *

**A/N**- I didn't really think about this until I was working on this chapter, but I figure I'll toss in a mention of IRL stuff. War rape is a real thing and tens of thousands of women in conflict zones are raped and never given the chance to report it or prosecute their rapists. Google for more info. It's shockingly under-reported and even more under-prosecuted.

Please **_REVIEW_!**

For my SVU and NCIS readers - now that I am home from Christmas, I have a week or two before the new semester begins. Hopefully that means I'll be able to get lots of writing done!


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